


Winter

by johnlockaf



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad Ending, Unresolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:38:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5986429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnlockaf/pseuds/johnlockaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The winter was the same as it was each year. Bland and forlorn. John loathed the season with all his being. He felt that it reflected himself, and naturally this is what drove his emotions. The cold, harsh nature of the weather yanked at John’s heart. The bristle air and the withered greenery were nothing but a reminder of his aching loneliness. It was this season that affected him the most. They met during the winter after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter

_The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. -_ Henry David Thoreau

 

When one hears the word ‘desperation’, their mind turns to the ideas of anguish and yearning. Though that very notion is contradictory to the original statement. In Thoreau’s use of the word, his purpose is to express resignation, defeat, and submission.

It is representing the men who venture for the average outcome just to get by. The men who live idly. The men who are negligent to try. These are the people who have sacrificed the joy in life. The labor in trying. These are the people who are not truly living.

 

-

 

 **JOHN W.  
** _Early January_

 

Frost clutched the corners of the windows. A strong wind blew effortlessly through the air. Snow gently found its way to the ground, setting the wintry mood even further. The sun shone weakly through the threshold of the clouds and the streets remained as quiet as they were. The winter was the same as it was each year. Bland and forlorn. John loathed the season with all his being. He felt that it reflected himself, and naturally this is what drove his emotions. The cold, harsh nature of the weather yanked at John’s heart. The bristle air and the withered greenery were nothing but a reminder of his aching loneliness. It was this season that affected him the most. They met during the winter after all.

 

-

 

It had to have been at least 11 o’clock when John heard the flat door unlock and open. Harry had agreed to be home two hours prior to said arrival. Needless to say, John was used to his sister’s reckless choices, but this hasn’t stopped him from maintaining his disciplinarian figure in tact. He then began to give his routine lecture that he recited every night.

 

“Harry. It’s eleven. You said—“ John began.

“Spare me. I know what I said,” she paused. “I’d also appreciate it if you would stop treating me like a child!”

John scoffed in amusement, “It’s hard not to when you constantly act like one.”

Harry mused, “ _I’m_ acting like one? At least I’m not sitting here wasting my life away. It’s been four years, John. Four years. I’m sure James has straightened his life out—“

“Don’t say his name. Please,” John urged weakly.

 

_James._

 

There it was. The root of the agony. That same agony that consumed whatever hope John had left. He was impotent in comparison to it’s overwhelming force. Left to do nothing but linger in the dwindling thread that was his life. Forced to suffer in silence. Forced to move on, though he was nowhere near ready.

 

‘Four years’, she uttered. She spoke her words as if they were dressed with ice. Her eyes remained as stiff as her tone, deepening the impact of her intentions. John was in no fit state to retaliate against it. Four years he has suffered. Four years he has endured. Four years he has persevered through all of the pain.

 

_Is that not enough?_

 

It was that moment where he realized that it _was_ enough.

 

 

_-_

 

 **SHERLOCK H.  
** _Early January_

 

[in progress]


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